The tale of two Latin beauties
by CarolynCorpse
Summary: There are new creatures in town and you can bet Sam and Dean are on it.


**Disclaimer: I did not create the idea of 'Supernatural' and claim no credit or merit for the initial idea. I am not held liable for and refuse to get involved with anything that will get me in legal trouble.**

* * *

"Hey, Mr Sandman, how about you wake up, we have a case." Dean said carelessly as he tossed a coffee stained confidential police folder at Sam's head.

There was no response, Sam simply snored softly as he slept, with his face buried in his crossed arms and the blue glow of his laptop illuminated his face and follicles of the waves of his rich brown hair.

The motel room was dark and didn't have any lights, apart from two dim lamps at the side of each single bed, but Sam and Dean didn't need much more than that, they were hunters after all.

Opening up the crappy mini-fridge in the corner of the room, Dean took out a can of beer and pulled the metal tab back, cracking the can open.

"Sam?" He hollered, over his shoulder, before tipping back the can, allowing some of the cold and refreshing beer to wash down his dry throat, "Fine then, I hate to waste a good beer, but..."

Dean baptised Sam with the chilled, foamy amber liquid. Suddenly, Sam jolted awake, as though he had received an electrical shock.

"W-what?" He shouted sleepily, yet alarmed. His heart was beating so fast that it made his head throb.

"Finally," Dean grinned, "Prince Charming didn't come and kiss you after all, Sleeping Beauty, so I had to take matters into my own hands."

Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes with a balled fist.

"Whatever Dean, what is so urgent that you couldn't wait for me to wake up?"

"Well, while you were busy touring Dream Land, thinking of screwing I-don't-know which type of supernatural slut this time, I was following a few strange cases around town and I found one that sounds sort of like, you know... our deal."

Sam rolled his eyes and picked up the folder and the papers that lay spilled on the table before him.

"Wow... four men found dead within two days in this town, hearts ripped out..."

"Yeah, and I did a background check, they don't have anything in common, not even ages or zodiac signs."

"Well, did you call Bobby? Maybe some creature or something has been spotted, if we can get the type of creature down, it will be a hell of a lot easier to track and to find out how to kill it."

Dean nodded and shoved a chocolate covered doughnut in his mouth and devoured it in one bite. Sam glanced at him in disgust and wondered how women actually found his peculiar and piggish elder brother attractive at all.

"He thinks it's a siren or something, but I thought they lived in the sea."

Sam's features lit up and he smirked; "Back when we still had Dad's journal, I read something about sirens coming to the shore during a certain season or something."

Before Dean could reply, his cell phone buzzed in the back pocket of his faded jeans, it was Bobby reporting another dead man found heartless.

* * *

Dean dramatically kicked the large wooden door open with his heavy duty shoes and proudly grinned at Sam as it effortlessly flung open before them.

"Are you serious, was that really necessary?" Sam furrowed his brows in frustration.

"Come on, we are hunters and this seedy looking little crap-hole to be quite honest looks dodgy. Do you think it would be better if we meekly knock and ask the lady of the house to kindly invite the two of us in at three in the morning? No bro, we need to do everything so that it looks symbolically bad-ass."

"You are so full of it." Sam muttered under his breath and brushed a loose strand of his dark hair from his forehead.

"Sammy, this is a weird tip off, and this could be the eighth damn dead heartless guy we have found in three days, we don't have time to be dainty." Dean's pink lips pouted slightly, "Let's do this!"

Sam rolled his green-brown eyes and gripped his salt gun tightly in his hand, slowly exhaling.

The entrance hall was eerily lit and a weird tension grew in the air around the boys, making them feel increasingly uncomfortable, but they shook it off. The house smelt like rum and urine. Turning to face Sam, Dean pressed his index finger to his lips and his and Sam carefully padded through the house.

They scouted the house, checking every room and closet, with their salt guns ready to fire if any creatures were lurking in any possible dark corners.

The house appeared normal, apart from the foul stench and the boys had gotten to the point where they suspected the mysterious text Dean had received hours before to be nothing but a dead-beat of a lead.

Pushing the door to the master bedroom open with his shoulder, Dean exposed yet another familiar, gruesome murder scene. Sprawled on the king sized bed, like a starfish was the naked body of a man in his fifties, his flabby stomach appeared to bubble and ooze over his sides and his mouth appeared to have at some stage been overflowing with a thick bloody mess that had dripped down and stained his plump cheeks.

"Hey, hey Sam, check this sucker out." Dean prodded the corpse with his gun.

"Nasty Dean." Sam grimaced more from the stench than anything else.

"I don't know who is more heartless, the killer or the vic." Dean grinned at himself, quite pleased by his pun.

Sam tucked his gun into his belt, before him and Dean searched the room for any clues as to who the killer was. Dean picked up a wallet on the pedestal and flipped it open, revealing a small laminated business card tucked in one of the worn thin leather pouches.

"Nice." Dean muttered and handed the luminescent-pink card over to Sam.

"What the..." Sam began as he read the cursive, black writing on the card.

"_Casa de Fabuloso (House of Fabulous) Escort Services_

_Are you alone and in need of some Latin-American entertainment?_

_Dial 0800345353 for an opportunity of a life time, an evening with one (or more)_

_of our elegant Latin beauties."_

Dean and Sam exchanged shared looks of confusion and stood there in silence for a minute, puzzled.

"Well, I think we should call." Dean pulled the small silver flip-up phone from his pocket and began to punch in the numbers clumsily.

"No Dean, that's a terrible idea. I honestly think that we should track down this place and try and figure out what is going on here, because I'm pretty sure the FBI files stated that there were identical business cards found in at least three of the victims' houses after they were found dead." Sam's brow creased as he sat down on the faded magenta sofa.

He tilted his head back and fanned himself with the card, as if it would speed up his thought process. Just as Dean turned to grab himself another beer, Sam sprung up and grinned.

"What?" Dean whirled around to face his younger brother, despite the age difference; Dean had to look up at him when he had to make eye contact with Sam.

"There is an address printed at the back and they are apparently open 24/7."

"Okay, let's motor then... after I get a beer." Dean pouted and rolled his eyes at Sam.


End file.
